Perhaps because Uchiha pride wouldn't allow for petty retaliation against a group of toddlers, the fallout from the brawl never materialized. A year passed quickly, and Aburame Tetsumaru turned five.
The Aburame clan's financial situation, however, had grown increasingly dire. Over the past year, the clan had lost twenty-two shinobi to death or medical retirement—nearly twenty percent of their total force. It was a crippling blow to their foundation.
The Aburame weren't known for their business acumen; their primary income came from the village's mission commissions. With fewer active shinobi, their revenue plummeted while the number of orphans continued to rise. They were bleeding money.
The Nest House now sheltered a dozen more orphans, and with active parents frequently deployed on missions, the number of children staying there during the day had increased by over thirty. Aside from Sachiko, two other retired shinobi had been brought in to help, but the quality of food was noticeably declining.
Being the eldest among the children, Tetsumaru quickly finished his saltless, oil-free wild vegetable rice ball and watched his younger "siblings" eat. There were no more large bowls; everyone received two meager onigiri mixed with greens and a small bowl of thin vegetable soup. It wasn't enough to fill them.
The sallow, malnourished faces of the children and the deep frowns of the caretakers sat heavy in his gut. In his previous life, he had lived in a rising nation that had long ago cast off the shadow of war. He had only heard of the horrors of famine and conflict through the news; he had never experienced them firsthand. Until now.
After helping the older kids clear the dishes, a somber Tetsumaru headed out alone. As a transmigrator with a mental age of over forty, he was the odd one out. While the kids acknowledged his status as the "King," they couldn't exactly relate to him.
Tetsumaru preferred it that way. As his body matured, he was slowly regaining control over his childish impulses. Keeping a distance from the "brats" was the only way to avoid being dragged down to their level.
Since the incident with the Uchiha, the name "Tetsumaru-boss" had spread throughout the neighborhood. He was known as a heavy hitter who was incredibly reliable. Now, his word carried weight not just with the Aburame children, but with all the kids in the surrounding area—often carrying more authority than a direct order from Aunt Sachiko.
Wandering through the village, the pressure of hyperinflation was palpable. The prices of sugar, alcohol, and grain had tripled since last year. Fresh meat, milk, and fruit had vanished from the markets entirely; they were "listed" but never actually in stock.
If Konoha, situated in the heart of the fertile Land of Fire, was struggling this much, the other villages had to be in hell.
A steady rise in prices during a non-disaster period following a war was a textbook prelude to the next one. A new conflict was brewing.
The problem was that the last war had started in confusion and ended in a stalemate. No one had been prepared for large-scale shinobi army confrontations, and the death tolls had been staggering. Common ninjas had died in droves, and even those at the peak—the Kage—couldn't escape. Except for the Second Kazekage who had withdrawn early, the Second Kage of the other four Great Nations were all dead.
An eighty percent mortality rate for the Five Kage. Small villages like the Grass were nearly wiped off the map. The psychological trauma inflicted on the survivor generation was immeasurable.
Furthermore, the "end" of the war had been messy. Years later, skirmishes remained frequent, and every nation was exhausted. On paper, it seemed impossible for another full-scale war to break out.
Shinobi society was fundamentally feudal—primitive and simple. But simple structures are resilient. An economic crisis alone wouldn't trigger a war. It wasn't that the Daimyos or the village elders didn't care about the common people; it was that the suffering of the lower classes didn't affect the gears of power at the top.
Even if an entire village starved, it was a loss for the local lord, but it meant nothing to the Great Daimyo. Shinobi wars were insular; they ravaged the world but were fought only by ninjas. As long as the tax revenue reached the Daimyo, war wasn't on the table.
Perhaps in another three to five years, when the shinobi grew so poor they faced starvation, the fear of hunger would finally overcome the fear of death, and the powder keg would explode.
But the Aburame clan couldn't wait that long. Tetsumaru didn't know how the clan in his memories had survived this period, but he had a way to make money, and he wasn't going to let his kin starve.
The family home had been renovated. The courtyard was bursting with life—vibrant grass covered every inch, save for a narrow stone-paved path.
Tetsumaru followed the path to a small stone house near the western wall. This was his laboratory.
After the brawl, Aburame Wafu had raided his son's bedroom, discovering over a hundred jars hidden under the bed and in the closets, containing over two hundred species of insects. The result had been a doubling of his "bamboo shoots fried with meat" sessions, but it had also come with a benefit: Wafu had built this separate lab specifically for the boy's "hobbies."
Tetsumaru had achieved significant results here, most notably a complete technological suite for Sugar Ant cultivation.
Last year, using his temperature-simulation experiments, he had successfully triggered the ants to differentiate into the Sugar-Pot variant for the first time in the Land of Fire. However, simple temperature changes weren't enough to scale up production. He eventually realized that the true governing factor wasn't temperature, but the Queen's pheromones.
Using vacuum tubes, he began the grueling task of collecting and analyzing those pheromones. It took six months. Because he was making zero progress, he had almost quit a dozen times.
Analyzing a sample for specific ingredients is easy if you know what you're looking for. But "blind" analysis is a nightmare. Without knowing the components, you have to use spectroscopy, X-rays, and fluorescence just to determine the elemental ratios. Then, you have to guess how those elements bond into molecules and test every single hypothesis.
In his past life, he remembered grad students spending two years and 1.2 tons of samples just to analyze a single biological toxin. Without knowing the formula, he couldn't synthesize the pheromones, and without synthesis, he couldn't have large-scale industrial farming.
Tetsumaru, a product of the industrial age, knew the astronomical difference in yield between natural foraging and industrial synthesis. He gritted his teeth and pushed on.
Six months ago, his Insight ability evolved. He was finally able to vaguely perceive the macro-molecular structures within the pheromones. The possibilities dropped from infinite to just eighteen. By that afternoon, the analysis was complete. For someone with a background in biochemistry, the subsequent synthesis was child's play.
Within a week, he had synthesized all the pheromones needed to control the colony. He now had total mastery over the Sugar Ants.
Using these pheromones, he even branched out into Tree Ants. They were physiologically identical to the Sugar Ants, but he "programmed" them to ranch Scale Insects (Coccids) instead of aphids. Scale insects parasitized trees and secreted both honeydew and insect wax. Now, his "farm" was producing both sugar and wax, doubling his profits.
With just the two large trees and the thick grass in his yard, Tetsumaru managed two colonies of Tree Ants and three of Grass Ants. It was enough to support the family.
What was the difference in yield? In the Land of Grass, Sugar Ants required two square kilometers of territory and were harvested once a year. In a 350-square-meter courtyard, Tetsumaru ran five colonies and harvested six times a month.
His yield was over two thousand times higher than nature intended.
The sugar and wax from his yard brought in a massive income—equivalent to two B-rank missions every single day, steady and risk-free. If you can make that kind of money safely, only an idiot would go out and bleed for a paycheck.
Wafu had quite simply stopped taking ninja missions to focus on managing the "bugs" at home. With the family finances booming and the father no longer taking life-threatening risks, Aiko's sense of security had skyrocketed. Their lives were thriving.
"Father, I have an idea."
Tetsumaru now addressed Wafu as "Father" without a hint of hesitation.
Wafu, wearing a straw hat and squatting in the grass to check the aphids, stood up. He fanned himself with his hat and smiled. "I'm listening."
"The food at the Nest House is getting worse. I want to hand the ant technology over to the clan to manage."
"Good."
Tetsumaru blinked. He was surprised by the immediate agreement. But seeing Wafu's proud smile, he realized his parents had likely been waiting for this. They had wanted to give it to the clan for a long time, but they had waited for him to suggest it out of respect for his work.
Waiting for me to step up? He felt a genuine pang of emotion.
"As a man, responsibility is the most important quality," Wafu said. "Go speak to Elder Shiki yourself."
"I will."
Tetsumaru ran to his lab, grabbed a large glass jar and his tool kit, and headed into the grass. He found a large wooden crate and lifted the lid, revealing a swarming mass of ants.
He used a spray bottle to mist the colony with a "Sedative Pheromone." Once they calmed, he opened the core of the hive and used tweezers to carefully lift out the Sugar-Pot Ants, securing them to the edge of a specialized large funnel.
These ants were the specialists of the colony. During the transition to autumn, they would gorge themselves until their abdomens swelled to two hundred times their original size, becoming grape-sized orbs of sugar. They couldn't move; they became living storage vats.
Tetsumaru's "trick" was using pheromones and temperature to lie to the colony. He forced them to experience an entire cycle of four seasons every five days. The ants were caught in a perpetual loop of gorging and hibernating.
He lined up twenty-four Sugar-Pot Ants over the funnel and sprayed a "Spring Awakening" pheromone—the scent the Queen would release to tell the colony to use their reserves to survive the spring.
The ants immediately regurgitated their liquid sugar, shrinking back to normal size. Tetsumaru tucked them back into the crate and moved to the next batch. The core of the hive held over three hundred of these "pots."
Soon, the glass jar was full of thick liquid. He sealed the jar and closed the hive. Tomorrow, he'd spray the "Growth" pheromone; in three days, the "Storage" pheromone. By the sixth day, he'd harvest again.
However, ant sugar wasn't as high-quality as honey. Honey contains antibacterial enzymes and has a long shelf life; fresh honey can even be used as a disinfectant. Ant sugar was just simple sugar hydrolyzed from plant cellulose. It wasn't fermented, so it was sweet but lacked aroma. Depending on the plants used, it was either pale green or pale gold.
If left untreated, it would ferment and turn sour within two days, looking like failed vinegar with disgusting black flakes.
But Tetsumaru had answers for that. No aroma? He could add it. Whether it was distilled floral oils or cold-pressed fruit essences, he did both. Short shelf life? He neutralized the acidity with wood ash water, then dehydrated it into hard, dry sugar blocks that could last indefinitely.
Tetsumaru processed half the liquid into sugar blocks and packed everything—the blocks, the raw liquid, his tools, and chemical powders—into his bag.
Wafu watched him the whole time. Aiko, who had just returned from work, didn't even start dinner; she just stood by and watched her son.
With everything packed, Tetsumaru said goodbye to his parents and strode toward the clan's restricted grounds, unfazed by the darkness. His parents watched him go with happy smiles before starting on a late-night snack to wait for his return.
At midnight, Elder Shiki and several other clan elders were huddled around a table, watching Tetsumaru with rapt attention.
Rat, Monkey, Boar. Three hand seals. Tetsumaru pressed his palms together.
"Water Style: Water Gathering!"
His hands pulled apart, forming a fist-sized orb of water suspended in the air. Using the jutsu to draw out moisture, he refined the liquid sugar into a solid, half-pound block of finished sugar.
The old men cut the block into finger-sized pieces and tasted them.
"Sweet! And fragrant!" "No aftertaste. This is excellent." "One hive produces this much every five days? This is better than honey." "High-quality sugar like this sells for four hundred Ryo a block right now. How many did you say?" "One hundred and twenty blocks... hiss... that's... that's a lot."
Elder Shiki, the lead elder, tasted a piece in silence. His expression shifted from joy to hesitation.
"That's nearly fifty thousand Ryo... this... this might be too much..."
The room went silent, save for the sound of sucking on sugar. Suddenly, a loud grumble broke the tension.
Tetsumaru rubbed his stomach. He had planned to eat after the meeting, but he hadn't expected Shiki to be so impressed that he'd call in every elder in the compound and demand a live demonstration. It was now the middle of the night. His metabolism was through the roof these days; he was starving.
"Hahahahaha!"
The old men burst into laughter, the tension evaporating.
"Alright, Tetsumaru. Go home and eat. We old fossils need to discuss the details." "Don't worry. This is a good thing for the clan. We just need to decide how to handle the logistics." "Exactly. At least the children will finally be able to eat their fill." "Go on, get some rest."
Tetsumaru bowed. "I'll take my leave. Please look after your health, Elders."
As the elders stayed up to discuss how to handle the Third Hokage, the Senju clan, and potential business partners, Tetsumaru headed home. He was accompanied by two clan shinobi who carried seventeen pairs of pupating Queen and King ants, along with tens of thousands of aphid and scale insect eggs.
After the ninjas left, Tetsumaru enjoyed a massive bowl of his mother's noodles and crashed into bed.
Two days later, Tetsumaru noticed that the food supply at the Nest House had returned to three full meals a day—and there was enough for everyone to eat their fill.
The "Ant Sugar" business had officially begun. Though the clan's large-scale farms were still being built, they had already secured an advance from their partners. The clan's economy was turning around.
He felt a genuine sense of accomplishment.